After a long day, Zuko's favorite evening ritual was brushing out his wife's hair. They had legions of servants at their command, but Mai always came to the bedroom with her hair bound up as it had been in the morning. After so long, they didn't need to exchange any words. Zuko would lean back against the pillows and Mai would settle between his legs. He would reach for the ivory comb on the bedside table and gently tease out the knots and tangles.
It was unbelievably soothing. She would lean back against his chest as he worked the comb through her hair over and over. It almost felt as though the black silky locks tried to wrap around his wrist and hold him there forever. She'd only let her hair grow longer with time, and it spilled across the bed like a pool of ink as he brushed.
Sitting together like this with only moonlight illuminating their bedchamber, Zuko could feel the worries and tensions of the day fade away. He was sure it helped Mai unwind too. As he brushed and brushed, he could feel the muscles of her back relax and she would mold herself against him, wrapping an arm around his leg and pressing herself to him. He was sure he would never get tired of running his hands through her hair, but often the brushing was cut short when she turned, pulled him down on top of her, and showered him with sweet kisses.